The Hanging Tree
by fleurilia
Summary: Rowan Casterly is going to die. Or, at least, that what she thinks when she's reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. A fox in a world crawling with wolves, she's faced with the inherent reality that if she wants to be a contender, she will have to battle even herself to survive. But sometimes, the distinction between friend and enemy can be a thin one and it might just cost her own life
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins or am in any way affiliated with her. I do not own the Hunger Games or anything else that you may recognize. That being said, let us just entertain the fantasy that I, in fact, do and am an astronomically successful woman and author of a multi-million dollar franchise.

**Chapter One**

Hung for a thief with my bones cast to the starving fingers of the mudlarks. I could imagine the sickly feeling of the cold, foul fingers as they would dig at my skin and break apart the brittle bones hidden beneath.

I clenched my fists and squeezed my eyes shut to get the image of Astrella's broken body and empty eyes out of my head.

I took a breath to steady myself before reaching out a hand and gently rubbing the horse's head.

"Hey, boy," I said as he nudged his nose toward me, looking for food.

I slipped a carrot out of my pocket and held it out for him to eat. "Are you ready?"

When he heard the familiar creaking of the stall door opening, he let out a soft neigh and I urged him to quiet down, offering him a second carrot to give his mouth something else to do.

"We've got to be quiet, Jax," I whispered as I patted his back before slipping a halter on him and attaching a rope to it.

I urged him forward, hurrying him out of the dark, eerie stable and into the cool, night air.

He whinnied again, wanting more food and I shushed him.

"Later, Jax," I promised but he lowered his head and found the rest of the carrots in my pocket and pulled them out and neighed again, pleased with himself.

I was exasperated but had to bite my lip to keep from laughing at the whole thing.

I let him eat another one before pocketing the rest so he wouldn't get a stomachache and then, when we'd left the abandoned ranch behind and reached the dirt path, I pulled myself up onto his back.

He shifted, waiting for my signal, as I leaned forward and when I lightly urged him forward, he took off like a bullet, shooting forward so fast I'd almost fallen off but I retained my grip and grinned against the wind that whipped my pale blond hair around my face.

I flew down the road, passing the lake and my family's ranch and leaving them far behind, before veering off of the path and heading toward the plateau in the distance.

When we neared the plateau, I urged Jax into a light trot and then a walk, stopping at the edge of the crowd of people, shouting and laughing amongst one another.

I slid off of Jax, guiding him forward to a water trough set up at the edge of the group in an patch of grass and loosely tied the rope to a nearby wooden pole hastily stuck up, letting him rest.

I offered him another carrot and had just begun to pat him on the back when someone emerged from the rowdy sea of bodies and jogged toward me.

"Rowan! It's about time!" My brother shouted, wearing a crooked grin. He threw something toward me - a bottle - and I caught it, sniffed it, recognized it as alcohol and then, when he'd turned away, abruptly tossed it behind me.

"Kota! Kota, where did you go?" A voice yelled from behind him. "Kota, you son of a -,"

Mieka approached from behind him and jerked to a stop at the sight of me.

I stared at her for a second before bursting out in laughter.

"I'm impressed," I told Kota. "What'd you do to get her to come? Tie her up and drag her here?"

Kota laughed but before he could say anything, Mieka crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

"He might as well have," She muttered.

Kota snorted. "Oh, please. That is not what happened -,"

"Well, in any case, he gave me no choice -,"

"Well, technically, I _did_ give you a choice -"

Mieka turned to me, exasperated. "He climbed onto my roof and said that if I didn't come, he'd jump off."

I rolled my eyes. "Mieka, you live in a one-story house."

She threw her hands up in the air. "I wasn't thinking straight, okay!"

I raised an eyebrow and Kota grinned, throwing an arm over Mieka's shoulders.

"What she means is that she was too overwhelmed with worry for me, that she couldn't think about anything else except my safety and -,"

Mieka shoved him away. "That is not true, you - you self-absorbed, arrogant -,"

Kota clamped a hand over her mouth. "Caring, kind-hearted and all around good looking specimen of a man."

"Man?" Mieka repeated incredulously after prying his hand away. "You're hardly seventeen."

Kota waved her away. "Seventeen? Twenty-five? What's the difference?"

"Eight years," I supplied.

Kota glared at me, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "See, Ro. This is why I like Jax more than you."

There was a roar of laughter behind us and Mieka flinched.

"This is a bad idea," She said. "This is a _very_ bad idea. We're all going to get caught."

I pretended not to hear her.

"Rowan, listen to me," She said, quickening her pace next to me. "Do you know what will happen if you get caught? They'll cut your tongue out and -,"

"I'll be an Avox for the rest of my life," I cut her off. "I get it."

"No," She said desperately. "No, I don't think you do."

"Oh, lighten up, Mieka," Kota said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"No, I will not lighten up!" She snapped, nudging my older brother off of her. "And I can not believe that I'm here! If anything happens, then -,"

"I'll swear you had nothing to do with it and that I forced you to come by holding you at knifepoint," I promised.

Someone shouted, coming near us.

At the edge of the bonfire with only the light of the moon, it was hard to make out much except for the flat expanse of land that stretched out around us and the looming outline of the plateau in the distance so it took a moment to recognize the boy who'd jogged toward us, with his patched shirt and scruffy jeans, as Lark Haverell, who worked on the ranch behind ours and was one of Kota's friends.

When he noticed me, he snickered.

"Nice dress."

I scowled. "Shut up."

I'd forgotten to hide spare clothes under my pillow and so hadn't opened the chest at my foot of my bed to get any before I snuck out of the window in my room, in fear of waking my younger sister Cassia, who had been asleep across the room.

The hem of the cotton nightgown brushed against the skin just above my knees and probably looked ridiculous paired with my father's rubber boots that were much too large for my feet.

Lark took one glance at Mieka and burst out laughing.

"Farrow?" He asked, clearly amused. "I didn't take you for much of a gambler."

Mieka glowered at him. "Neither did I."

I could hear Kota laughing beside me.

"Did you bet?" He asked Lark, who stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels as he nodded at me.

"Yeah, on Rowan," He said. "So she better win or your sister here's gonna owe me."

I snorted.

The sound of shouting and shattering glass rose up from behind us and Lark peered over his shoulder.

Lark groaned. "I thought that not making a mess was a universally accepted rule when it came to illegal gatherings," He complained. "But apparently, some people still need to be reminded."

He excused himself, hurrying off toward the two fighting men and shouting at them

Mieka's eyes widened at the sight of the brawl. "We should just leave, Rowan. If my father knew I was here -,"

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Kota said to Mieka, nodding toward a cluster of men on the far side of the circle. "He's over there."

Mieka's eyed widened as she whirled around.

It was true, actually.

Horse racing in District 10 was banned years before I was born, but the gambling over it - despite that it was terribly risky - was so popular and could prove to be so rewarding that the races were still held in secret.

District 10, with its patches of rough desert and stretches of land, was too vast for the Peacekeepers to patrol every corner of it so it wasn't hard to arrange the races at night, in some secluded area away from the eyes of Peacekeepers.

Besides, Kota and I needed the money. We were better off than most in our district, considering that our family owned one of the larger ranches, but District 10 was still a vastly poor place and the medicine we needed was too expensive.

Our mother got sick two years ago and we thought it was just a passing thing but when she failed to get better or respond to any of the medication we'd tried, we realized it was something much worse.

So we paid some haughty Capitol doctors who came once a year for a health clinic to look at her and they told us there was something wrong with her heart and the medicine was only available in the damned Capitol.

So, naturally, it cost more than we had and, even with the ranch, we've been struggling to afford it, which makes the racing all the more necessary.

Lark was the one who arranged it all. Every other week or so, whenever he could manage it, the date and location was spread through District 10.

Everyone knew about it, though they pretended not to.

There were nearly two hundred of us that always showed up and although it was supposed to be a quiet event, the older men and women always made it a big ordeal, starting a large bonfire and passing around drinks.

Mieka's father was one of them but it was something that neither of us addressed when we saw one another.

"Dad!" Mieka cried at the sight of him doubled over in laughter at something the man next to him was saying.

He looked up at the sound of Mieka's voice and paled.

"Mia!" He shouted, clearly bewildered. "What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" She roared, marching off toward him, her arms flying up in exasperation. "What are _you_ doing here?"

As she began to berate her father, Kota fought back a grin.

"You didn't have to point that out to her," I said. "She probably never would have noticed."

The corners of his mouth twitched and his green eyes danced with amusement. "I know."

Unlike Kota and I, who had been sneaking out to the races for a few years now, Mieka, who'd I'd been friends with as long as I could remember, had never been to one.

I'd tried to get her to come on multiple occasions before but she was adamantly against it, which was why it was so surprising that Kota had gotten her to come tonight.

"I guess that's my cue," I said, reaching for rope I used to lead Jax.

Kota leaned over to ruffle my hair, because he knew how much I hated when he did.

"Good luck," He said.

Kota used to race but I was faster than him, because I was smaller and lighter, so now he was the one who placed the bets.

There weren't many of us that raced. Nine or ten, usually. It had started out with a larger amount but had wheedled down to the fastest.

I slid my father's boots off, leaving them on the ground because it was easier to ride without them.

I began to lead Jax over to the crowd of people, who were forming a half circle around the starting point, with Kota falling in step beside me, muttering about who else had showed up to race under his breath.

"Why is Arlen here?" He was saying. "He's been last for months. And Bran's horse has a limp. If you don't win, Ro, I may disown you."

"But Theron and Elvira are here," I pointed out.

He waved my comment off. "Jax can outrun their horses in his sleep."

"For someone who has a lot of money riding on this, you're pretty confident," I observed.

I led Jax to a stop beside Ashlar, a boy I recognized from school because of his injured leg that consequently made him walk with a limp, and his horse.

I slipped the bit that Kota handed me into Jax's mouth and adjusted the reins.

Someone shouted for Kota from behind us. A group of boys from his class at school.

"Alright," He said as I pulled myself up onto Jax's back. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That's terrible advice," I said as I tied my hair up with a ribbon.

Kota only laughed, taking a few steps back as he went to join his friends.

"Just don't lose!" He shouted over the sound of the clamor of people. "Catch you later, kid!"

Then I lost sight of him in the crowd that was forming around us and sighed, turning to face forward just as Theron Halstead shouted something from the other side of Ashlar.

"Rowan!" He shouted. "Mind if I borrow that dress sometime?"

"Shove off, Halstead," I called back as Lark materialized in front of the line of horses, carrying a torch.

"You know the rules!" He shouted. "No foul play! And don't try to cheat yourself out of the course. Talon's at the other end to make sure you turn around there."

There really weren't any rules aside from not pushing anyone off of their horses or sabotaging one another.

Just ride straight, turn around and try to cross the finish line first.

Judging by the light in the distance, where Talon, one of Lark's friends, was waiting - the race wasn't a very long one.

I shifted on Jax's back, leaning forward and gripping the reins tightly in my hands.

It wasn't a rule but it was generally accepted that none of us would use saddles. The social classes in 10 varied considerably and with regard to that, we all had opted to ride without one - even those, like myself, who had saddles - in order to make the race fairer.

Lark started the countdown and melted back into the crowd, out of the way of the horses that would have ran him down.

The chant was taken up by the rest of the people, who had crowded around the horses, forming lines on both sides.

I could see Kota, next to a fuming Mieka, and he shot me an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Then the countdown ended in a roar of cheers and shouts as we all flew forward.

The thundering of hooves slamming against the hard earth was deafening.

Clouds of dust billowed around us and I had to squint to be able to see Theron, just ahead of me.

The light in the distance was growing closer and I couldn't see Ashlar beside me anymore.

"Come on," I pleaded with Jax.

Theron reached the boundary moments before I did and had shot back toward the line as I reached Talon.

I cursed under my breath as I took off after him.

I took a deep breath, leaning further forward and squeezing my legs into Jax's sides as he picked up speed. The momentum it whipped the ribbon out of my hair, sending my hair flying behind me with the force of the wind.

I could see the end of the race, a line marked by two barrels.

Jax rocketed forward and suddenly, we were neck and neck with Theron.

I pressed my toes down further and then Jax was inching ahead, unearthing chunks of dirt around us by the force of his hooves digging into the ground.

And then, for just a few moments, the world blended into a muted blur of sound and color.

It was only _this_. It was always _this_.

I was the wind. I was flying.

I wanted to laugh and cry all at once. The feeling was intoxicating.

I hadn't realized I was grinning until we shot past Theron, charging for the finish line where I pulled back on the reins and Jax skidded to a stop.

First to finish.

It was only then that I became aware of the sound of the crowd's tumult of shouting and screaming, pulling away from the state of determination I'd been in.

And then Kota was there, pulling me into a hug as soon as I slid off of Jax.

Kota was saying something that I couldn't discern with the uproar of the people around us, who were still cheering on the rest of the riders.

I looked up just as Ashlar finished fourth, after Elvira.

Kota had taken to shouting something at a boy I didn't recognize, who glumly handed him a pile of wrinkled bills he pulled from his pocket.

After the last horse crossed the finish line, the crowd exploded in a frenzy of movement, collecting and handing out money and shouting after one another.

I wasn't as social as Kota, who was already plunged into the center of a crowd of people, laughing loudly at a comment Lark made, so I walked Jax over to the edge of the circle, sitting beside him for a while as he ate grass.

Eventually, those who were more wary about being caught had since cleared away and the crowd had dwindled to a few dozen, maybe fifty or so, who settled in small groups around the large bonfire blazing in the center.

It was things like this that made me believe the Peacekeepers had to know about all of this. It was blatantly obvious that something was going on by the noise and the bright blaze of the flames but nobody ever bothered us about it.

I knew a few of them partook in it themselves. I'd seem them a few times, but they went to great lengths to conceal it.

As I made my way toward the group, I nearly bumped into Mieka, who was staring at the spectacle around us with wide eyes as a few men lined empty bottles up on a propped up log and took turns trying to knock them off with knives.

It was a game Kota and I had grown up playing. My mother had hated it, but we would still spend hours trying to see who could hit the most bottles.

"This is absurd," Mieka commented and the light from the flames twisting out of the nearby barrels made her red hair look like fire. "I can't believe you do this."

I bit back a smile, nodding at the men throwing knives. "Want to play?"

"No," She cried in astonishment. "I certainly do _not_ want to play -,"

But I had already grabbed her arm and dragged her along.

"Rowan!" One of them called, a hand on my family's ranch named Thom. He lifted his drink toward me, in a sloppy imitation of a toast. "You just made me rich, girl. I could kiss you!"

"Please, don't," I said, squeezing around him. My remark was met with a roar of laughter by the cluster of men.

"Mieka wants to play," I announced with a grin, pulling her in front of me.

"No, I really don't -," She started to say but Thom laughed and pressed a knife in his hand.

"Of course you do!" He called out with a grin. "Alright little lady, you can be on my team. You're up."

Mieka looked at me, her face contorted with horror.

I shooed her forward. "Go on, make some friends."

As Thom set up a row of bottles, someone nudged my shoulder.

Kota had had too much to drink and I wrinkled my nose at him.

He looked past me, to where Mieka looked stupefied, gaping at the bottles, and burst into laughter.

"Well, go on!" Thom shouted at her.

Mieka looked from the knife in her hand and then back at him.

"How do I hit it?" She asked.

The men gathered around the game roared with laughter. Mieka scowled at them.

"Just aim and throw!" Thom instructed. "It's as easy as riding a bike."

"I've never _ridden_ a bike," Mieka cried in exasperation.

Thom's brows knit together, before he shrugged. "Ah, well. What's the difference, really? You'll be great. Just go for it."

Mieka, looking characteristically uncomfortable, fumbled with a moment of indecision before taking a deep breath, squaring her shoulders and sending it flying toward the bottles.

She looked away in fright as soon as it left her hand, squeezing her eyes and turning her head away.

It flew toward Thom, narrowly missing his ear. He shouted something and fell backwards.

"Did I make it?" Mieka asked in a small voice, opening her eyes.

"Yeah," Thom said, clambering to his feet, the knife in his hand. "If it was my head you were trying to hit."

Mieka's shoulders slumped and she sighed in obvious annoyance.

"This is stupid," She said, marching toward the bottles. She pulled the knife from Thom's grip and reached out and slashed at the bottles. They all fell to the ground and shattered.

"That's cheating!" One of the men yelled out. "Foul play."

Mieka shrugged. "I didn't cheat. I just made it easier."

She pressed the knife back into Thom's grip and then stormed toward me. "I hate this game. Let's leave."

"But Mia, you're a natural," Kota protested with a grin.

Mieka ignored him. "What do you see in that game anyway?"

I shrugged. "It can be fun."

Kota threw an arm over my shoulder.

"Ro and I are on a thirteen month winning streak," He boasted.

"Then you two clearly need to find some other hobbies," She snapped. "Other than throwing pointy things at empty bottles."

"But I _like_ throwing pointy things at empty bottles," I defended. "Also, I can ride a bike."

Mieka pressed the knife into my hand. "You go then, if you're so fantastic."

I shrugged and spun to face Thom, holding out a handful of bills as a wager. "I bet you double or nothing that I can take them all out in one go."

"I know you're good, Ro. But you're not that good," He snorted. "I'll take that bet."

I grinned, turning and facing the line of bottles, bouncing on the balls of my feet as I lined up the shot.

I curved my wrist, throwing the knife in a careful arc to the side and it curved toward the bottles, smashing through the one on the end and knocking the rest down.

I gaped at the bottles in disbelief for a moment. I wasn't actually that good, it was a lucky throw really that I'd only made a few times before but then, a moment passed, and then I threw my arms up in the air in exhilaration as Kota whooped in the background.

The men all stopped to stare at me and then Thom and then back at me before bursting out in laughter.

"I've been practicing," I told Thom sweetly as I held my palm out and he grudgingly dropped some bills in it.

Mieka scoffed, folding her arms over her chest in a display of obvious annoyance.

"I'm going to pretend that I'm not impressed," She muttered. "And say that we should go."

"Alright," I said with a half-laugh. "I'll get Jax and -,"

"_What_?" Kota roared. "But we just got here."

"Three hours ago," I said as Kota opened his mouth to say something else, I grabbed his shirt and started to lead him away. "Oh, come on. We've made Mieka hate us long enough."

Kota sighed but didn't protest as I pulled him away, stopping to jog over and grab Jax before joining Mieka and Kota again.

The walk to Mieka's house was far, considering she lived in town but I didn't mind it so much.

My family's ranch was on the outlying edge of the district, with the other larger ranches, and as we reached the fence marking the perimeter of the property, Mieka turned to me expectantly.

But I only stared at her.

"Well," She said. "Aren't you going to go home?"

"Actually, there's something I have to do first," I said, glancing at Jax.

"What do you mean?" She started to ask but cut off as her eyes widened. "Oh, Ro, do _not_ tell me that youstolethat horse -,"

"I didn't steal him," I retorted and she sighed in obvious relief. "I borrowed him."

Her face contorted into one of rage.

"Rowan! How could you _do_ that? Do you know how many laws you've broken tonight?" She looked up toward the dark sky and rubbed her temples with a deep sigh. "You're insane," She muttered to herself. "You're actually insane and you won't make it to twenty without being arrested -,"

"Mieka," I said but she ignored me, continuing to ramble about how I was going to end up as a convicted felon and how I was going to bring her down with me. "_Mieka_!"

She broke off at the sound of my shout.

"You're not going to get in any trouble," I assured her. "Look, Kota can walk you home and if anyone catches you, he'll take the fall."

"I didn't actually agree to that," Kota said. "But anything for you, Mieka."

He made a mocking flourish with his hand that was half a bow and she scowled at the sarcasm that had seeped into his tone.

She looked as if she was searching for something to say but clamped her jaw shut and spun on her heel.

Kota shot me a loathing look, though he was clearly suppressing a grin, before turning and jogging to catch up with her.

After they disappeared from sight, I pulled myself onto Jax and took off, riding alongside the outer fence of my family's ranch and then looping around the lake that separated my family's land from the ranch next to ours.

It belonged to the Aplin family, but then their oldest son, Levi, won the games and they moved into the Victor's Village.

After he won, they had left it behind. They sold most of their cattle, aside from a few cows and some sheep, and there were still a few horses in the stable but other than that, it was mostly empty.

I didn't know why the ranch hadn't just been sold off to someone else, but someone must be looking after it from time to time if it hadn't fallen to complete ruin.

If there was someone who watched over it, I never saw them around on the few occasions I rode out that far from my ranch which generally involved borrowing Jax or sneaking food to him and the other horses.

My family's horses weren't as fast as theirs, whose were built for speed - something I'd found out when I ventured to the abandoned ranch after they'd left it behind.

I had been driven by curiosity, to see what had become of the ranch and I'd ended up in their stables.

I didn't know the family. Even though I'd grown up near them, our ranches were miles apart.

The Aplin family didn't talk to many people nowadays. They merely distanced themselves away from the rest of the district. Especially after the parents died.

I remembered hearing about it. It happened a few months ago, a result of some freak accident, and there was a big funeral procession through town that I hadn't gone to.

When I reached the fence surrounding their lands, I slid off of Jax's back and moved to open the gate.

Even if there was someone who looked after the ranch on occasion, it wasn't as if they'd hang around it in the middle of the night.

The hinges creaked as I swung the gate open and led Jax inside.

The stables were behind the dark house, which had adopted an eerie quality without its owners to take care of it.

Long vines of ivy snaked up the sides of if and the paint on the shutters was cracked and crumbling. The windows were dusty and one was shattered.

I veered away from it, following the worn down dirt path around the house and toward the stables - a long, rectangular structure with battered wood siding.

I pulled the doors open and moonlight flooded the dark space. I still had to squint to find Jax's stall, the nearest one on the right, and my fingers fumbled to undo the latch in the dark.

After I managed to slide it open, I led Jax inside, shutting the stall door and leaning over it to pet him as I slid the halter and reigns off of him.

He whinnied and tossed his head to the side, nudging my hand with his nose, like he usually did when he wanted food.

"I don't have anything else," I explained softly. "But I'll bring you more carrots tomorrow, I promise."

He let out a high-pitched neigh and snorted, obviously not pleased with my lack of food.

I scowled at him.

"Fine. I'll look around," I muttered before flashing him a stern look and a pointed finger. "But don't get your hopes up."

It was hard to see in the dark, with only the faint moonlight to see by, and I searched around in the dark until my fingers closed around a match.

But by the time I lit it, it was too late to stop myself from smashing into the pile of stacked, wooden boxes, and they tumbled to the ground with a loud, thundering crash.

I had landed uncomfortably on top of one but before I could clamber to my feet, I heard a faint groan underneath the boxes.

My eyes snapped wide open and I froze.

Someone else was in here.

And suddenly Mieka's voice was echoing in my head.

Do you know what will happen if you get caught?

I realized I didn't want to find out, so I scrambled to my feet - albeit very clumsily - and made a wild dash for the open door but before I could slip through it, I ran straight into something blocking the entrance.

No, _someone_, I realized with horror.

When I looked up, Levi Aplin was staring at me in confusion - his messy, chestnut brown hair tousled and his bright eyes blinking as he yawned, scratching the back of his neck.

He noticed me and his eyes widened as he tried to blink away sleep, fumbling for words.

He looked from me, to Jax, and then back to me and his lips parted in surprise.

"_You,_" He said, clearly piecing the story together, as he pointed an accusatory finger at me.

"Me?" I asked, trying to slowly step around him but he was faster and moved to block my escape.

"You're the one who's been stealing my horse," He said.

I took a hesitant step back. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The look on his face told me he didn't believe that for a second.

"I never really understood why," He went on to explain, ignoring my weak defense. "Because after I noticed he was missing, I always found him right back here in the morning but I figured I'd catch you eventually and then I fell asleep and well-," He trailed off with a shrug and grimaced, rubbing his shoulder. "You sure know how to wake a person."

"Sorry," I muttered sheepishly then immediately scolded myself for addressing that I'd been the one to knock the boxes he'd evidently fallen asleep on over."I mean, that you fell. Not that I did it. Because I didn't. I heard it from outside. I was just walking by. I came in to see what happened."

He looked at me incredulously as I rambled, spewing out an excuse.

"What were you doing outside?"

I cursed myself for not having thought this far ahead.

I bit my lip. "I lost my dog. He ran over here, I think. I was just looking for him."

He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

I nodded.

"Yeah," I said, taking a slow step to the side. "So if you're alright then, I should really be going -,"

But he moved in front of me. "You stole my horse."

He said it without an ounce of doubt and I realized I couldn't really explain myself out of this one, so I did the only thing I could think of.

"What's that?" I asked, motioning behind his shoulder.

He made the mistake of glancing behind him, for merely a second, and I ducked around him and sprinted out of the stable.

He shouted after me but I had already reached the edge of his house.

I paused, just before I rounded the corner, to turn back around to do arguably one of the stupidest things that I could've done.

"He rides great!" I shouted, before making a run toward the edge of the ranch and darting out the gate.

If he was following me, I couldn't tell.

The road between our ranches was merely a dirt pathway large enough for one cart to pass through and even though I didn't think he had come after me, I stayed off of it anyway - opting to jog a ways away from it until I neared my house and ducked under the fence, not bothering to use the gate, to get to my house.

What was he even doing there, in the middle of the night? Was he the one who still took care of the ranch?

But why would be bother when he had his large house in the Victor's Village to live in and more money than he probably knew what to do with.

From what he let on, it was evident that he'd known for a while someone had been borrowing Jax, but most bizarrely, he hadn't bothered to alert any Peacekeepers about it.

I doubted he recognized me. My parents used to be friends with his and when we were younger, he had come over for supper with his siblings a few times but that was years ago.

I thought about what Mieka would say, if she knew he caught me there, and vowed never to tell her.

I was still breathless as I slipped inside my house and pulled off my father's boots, dumping the money out of them and leaving them neatly by the door, where'd I found them.

I'd just begun to creep up the stairs when I heard it - the soft, muffled shifting coming from the kitchen.

I slowly slipped back downstairs, careful to avoid the step that always creaks when you put weight on it, and with soft footfalls, paused at the kitchen doorway.

My father sat in front of the stone fireplace, staring rigidly into the flames.

I sighed, moving to the cupboard in the hallway and pulling out a wool blanket.

I was quiet as I slipped into the kitchen and fetched two mugs from a cupboard, putting tea bags in them.

I crossed the room and left the two mugs one of the long benches of the table a few feet away so I could drape the blanket over my father's shoulders.

He turned to glance at me and placed a gentle hand over mine with a reassuring squeeze before looking ahead again.

I used the water from the kettle over the fire to fill the two mugs and then set them down in front of us and I sat down beside him.

"Here," I said, pushing one toward him.

He gave me a small smile in gratitude and picked it up but didn't drink out of it.

"You should get some sleep," I said quietly as I watched the flames flicker and twist upwards as if they were dancing.

My father nodded, gently padding my knee. "I will. Don't worry about me."

"You make it hard not too," I admitted sheepishly.

He turned to look at me. "Now you sound like your mother."

"Weird," I muttered with a grin. "It's like we're related."

My father rolled his pale green eyes, some humor leaking back into them as he lightly nudged me with his shoulder. "Oh, shut up."

I smiled and then paused, biting my lip.

"You shouldn't worry about her so much," I said about my mother in a quiet voice, reaching up to poke my father's forehead with a tiny smile to lighten the impact of my words. "You'll get wrinkles."

He swatted my hand away. "_More_ wrinkles, you mean."

In truth, he didn't look very old. Sure, his blonde hair was fading and he had the creases of laughter lines but there was a certain air of youthfulness around him, even as he sighed and slumped his shoulders over.

"I'm scared, Ro," My father finally admitted after what felt like a lifetime of silence.

"Me too."

He shifted, laying the blanket over my own shoulders. "You were racing tonight, weren't you?"

I waited a moment before nodding. There was no sense in denying it, really.

"Figured as much. I thought I heard Kota fall as he tried to climb up to his room," My father mumbled. He used to race too, when he was younger, but stopped when he met my mother because she wasn't comfortable with it. My father missed it, I could tell. We sometimes raced around the ranch but it wasn't the stakes weren't as high. There was no pounding pulse and the thrill of excitement from partaking in something illegal.

But he didn't want any of us getting into trouble or feeling like we were obligated to find money for our mother in any way we could and really, that was why we did it.

"You shouldn't have gone tonight," My father said. "The reaping's tomorrow. There are Peacekeepers everywhere."

"Ah," I said. "But they always leave us alone the night before the reaping. There's no better time to do it."

My father raised a brow. "Capitalizing on their pity?" Then he offered me a small smile, ruffling my hair as I batted his hand away. "I've taught you well, little fox."

I grimaced as he used the annoying nickname he'd coined when I was two and I'd conned the baker into giving me a free loaf of raisin bread.

I pushed the money toward my father. "Kota has the rest. It should be enough for a while, right?"

My father looked as if he'd aged twenty years when he turned to me.

"Rowan," He breathed with a heavy sigh. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do this to help your mother. You're brave, fox, but this isn't your responsibility. You're only a child."

"I want to help."

"You're as stubborn as your mother, too," He grumbled. "I guess if I tell you to stop racing, you'll just do it again, won't you?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Can you promise me something?"

"Maybe."

"That you don't only do it because you feel that you have to. I don't think I could live with myself if you forced yourself too."

I let out a soft laugh.

"No," I said. "I suppose I love it. I am '_The Great Galloping Gabriel's_' daughter, after all," I finished, using my father's embarrassing nickname that he'd tried to spread around when he was younger but, to his surprise, it hadn't caught on much.

My father jokingly winced at the nickname and then smiled but his eyes were still sad. "You should sleep, Rowan. You wouldn't want to be tired tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, reaching for my cup but he waved me away.

"I'll get it," He assured me.

I nodded. "Goodnight," I said and leaned over to kiss his cheek before leaving the blanket with him and getting to my feet.

"Go to sleep soon, okay?" I said before slipping out the door and up the steps, with a bit less care then before because what was the use? He knew I'd been out anyway.

There were three rooms upstairs - my parents bedroom, Kota and Oleander's and the one that I quietly snuck into - Cassia's and mine, where I slid into bed and pulled the covers up over my head but I could only stare at the stars out of the open window and wait for sleep to come.

Author's Note

I FOLLOWED NO NAME SCHEME WHATSOEVER BUT YOU CAN'T STOP ME

Also, if would be very cool if anyone would leave me a comment or whatnot. Anyway I have a few more chapters written but i'm not sure when I should post them so I guess I'll just wing it. I'l probably put the second up sometime this week, I don't know.

okthankyouforreadingiloveyouhaveaniceday!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The heat was sweltering.

My breaths were strained and laced with weight. Rivulets of sweat stuck to my forehead, plastering my hair to my skin.

The stifling humidity slid over my flesh and the metal buckets I was carrying slammed against my knobby knees with a metallic rattle with each step I took.

Water sloshed over the rims and fell onto my dusty, worn out boots as I lugged the buckets toward the fence that kept the cows penned in.

I stepped up onto the bottom rail and leaned over to pour the water into the empty trough below.

I jumped down and took a step back, wiping my clammy hands off on my shorts.

Most of the people in my district had the day off with the reaping being held today, but while everyone else was sleeping in, my family had to rise early to take care of the animals.

I could see Kota in the distance, muttering a string a curses at a flock of sheep as he struggled to get them to cooperate.

After abandoning the empty buckets near the rundown shed behind my family's house, I jumped up onto the side of the fence that held in the sheep, that Kota was so desperately trying to get to cooperate as he fought shoo them away so he could fix a loose board of wood in the fence.

I propped my elbows up on the top plank of the wooden fence.

"I have to say," I called out. "I've always admired your work ethic."

He glanced up and scowled. "It was working great, actually. Until you got here, I had everything under control."

I made a big show of nodding. "Naturally."

"This is a stupid job," He finally concluded as finished securing it and got to his feet, sticking his hands in his pockets and kicking a rock around with his feet.

"Well, we're pretty much going to be doing this forever," I said. "You might as well get used to it."

He frowned. "I don't want to do this forever. You know that."

"What else are you going to do?" I asked. "District 10 isn't exactly overflowing with opportunities."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I don't even want to live in District 10."

"Where do you _want_ to live?"

We'd had the conversation a dozen times before, where we both dwelled on the impossible, but in the end we would accept the inevitable truth that we were bound to spend the rest of our lives working on a ranch in the searing heat of District 10.

"Who knows?" The pebble he was kicking skidded under the fence, out of reach. He stared at it for a few seconds before ripping his gaze away. "Somewhere with more than one season, for a start."

"I want to see snow," I added with a wistful sigh. "Real snow, I mean. Not the light stuff we sometimes get."

"What does it matter, anyway?" He said suddenly with a dramatic sigh, leaning against the fence next to me. "We're going to suffocate here for the rest of our lives."

I scoffed, leaning over to pinch his cheek. "That's nonsense. You'll have me to brighten up your day."

He shuddered. "I know. The thought is enough to give anyone nightmares."

"Shut up," I said, lightly shoving his shoulder, but I couldn't fight the faint smile that had worked its way onto my face. "Race you to the house?"

And without waiting for a reply, I took off, slipping through the fence and launching into a sprint before he could respond.

He shouted after me and I could hear his footsteps behind me, thundering across the dry earth toward me.

I had nearly reached the back door when he slammed into me from behind, sending me hurtling toward the ground.

But before I could get up, he was already leaning against the door frame with an air of nonchalance.

"Cheaters never win," He said, pretending to examine his nails.

I reached for the nearest object - an empty bucket - and hurled it at him.

He ducked and there was a resounding echo as the aluminum bucket slammed into the door.

The sound must have been louder than I'd thought, because a few seconds later the door swung open and Cassia was there, with wide eyes and her sleeves pushed up to her elbows, revealing flour covered arms.

"What are you _doing_-,"

But before she could finish her sentence, Kota grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

She stumbled out the door and Kota slipped inside, grinning triumphantly.

Something I grudgingly had to admire about Kota was that even on days like today, he could make everyone a bit more relaxed with how light-hearted he was.

"I win. You both lose," He taunted.

"_What?_" Cassia roared, her tiny arms flying into the air. "I wasn't even _playing!_"

"It's alright," Kota said with a shrug, disappearing inside, and then sang over his shoulder, "wouldn't have mattered if you were." Then, to someone else inside, "Is there any food?"

My younger sister's face twisted into one of anger as she raced in after him. "Take that back, you thick-headed -,"

But her words were drowned out as she chased him out of the room.

When I followed them inside, entering the kitchen, I could see that Cassia had been kneading dough on the counter.

I finished for her and set it aside as I began to clean up the mess of flour on the counter, floor and basically everywhere.

With our mom so sick, Cassia had been trying to do a lot around the ranch lately but she was a bit, well, new at all of it. Also, too short to properly reach the counter.

Kota came back into the room, with Cassia, slung over his shoulder, giggling.

He dropped her lightly on the counter and reached for a bit of flour, swiping it across her face and she squeezed her eyes shut and squealed. "Now, we need to roll out all of the lumps before baking -,"

She twisted and turned to get away from Kota who had begun tickling her, until my father came in, raised his eyebrows and abruptly walked out.

Kota glanced at me and grinned before jogging out after my father and coming back with his arms slung over his shoulders.

"So, anyway," He said. "I was thinking that to, you know, spice up with the place, we'll put a portrait of me on that wall and a life-size sculpture against that window and -,"

"Yeah, we'll definitely, uh, look into that," My father said, casting a glance in my direction that told me that no, he would very much _not_ be looking into that.

It was hard to share Kota's energetic attitude, given today. I knew it was all for the rest of us, mostly Cass and Ollie, but if he was as solemn and dejected as I generally was about today, I wouldn't be sure that I could get through it without bursting into tears.

We'd made it a rule that, after so many years of being miserable on the day on the reaping, we'd try to be as light-hearted and happy as we could because if it was ever going to be our last day together, we didn't want it full of brooding and sobbing.

Of course, it was hard not to get succumb to the toll of the reaping but we managed as best we could.

Kota, at seventeen, was eligible for the reaping and at nearly fifteen, so was I.

Cassia was seven and Ollie eleven, therefore both were safe, at least for now and we would never let them apply for tesserae.

Kota had applied twice, when my mother first got sick and there were fewer races and we couldn't afford the medicine and food. Using a cow or chicken from our farm would have made us dangerously close to failing to meet our livestock quota and my parents would've gotten imprisoned.

We'd begged him not to but he'd done it anyway and maybe he'd saved us with that but he'd also potentially condemned himself.

I knew that twice, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't a lot considering most kids in District 10 applied so many more times than that but it still made me sick with panic.

If Astrella were still alive, she'd have been nineteen by now and too old for the reaping. I'd only been eleven when she was hung, but I could still remember her set jaw and tense muscles as she stared straight ahead while they tightened the noose around her neck, resigned to die with dignity.

Ollie came into the room then and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week, with dark circles under his eyes and blonde hair sticking up every which way from tossing and turning all night.

He was generally very scared the night before a reaping and maybe because this was his last one before he'd be entered too, it made him more restless than usual.

My father, Kota and I had woken earlier than usual so Cassia and Ollie could sleep in but they'd risen early anyway.

"Hey, Ollie," Kota said softly, his casual, energetic demeanor slipping off of him in an instant. "Are you feeling alright?"

Ollie nodded, yawning. "Just tired, s'all."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Kota said. "Cass and Rowan snore so loud that I can hear it from our room, too. It's a miracle that anyone in this house gets a wink of sleep with those two."

"Kota!" Cassia whined, sitting up on the counter, as Ollie allowed himself a small laugh.

"_Ha ha_," I said dryly. "You're so funny."

"You were speaking about me?" My mother inquired as she rolled herself inside the kitchen in her wheelchair.

She was terribly pale with sunken-in cheeks and dark circles under her eyes but still managed to retain a semblance of normalcy about herself.

She'd been doing better lately, well enough to move about on her own and I had managed to convince myself that she must be getting better but this had happened a lot before, small moments of respite before her health suddenly plummeted, to a worse state than before.

"_Ma chére!_" My father cried out, crossing the room to kiss her cheek.

I knew it was some affectionate term but didn't exactly know where it came from and neither did my father. It was from a language spoken in my family dating back centuries, but it'd dwindled out and we'd only retained a few phrases from it.

There was no need for it, I supposed.

My mother waved him off with a frail hand and a pointed expression. "Well, now you've messed up my hair," She said, reaching up to smooth her perfect hair. "I look like a wreck."

"You look as lovely as the day I married you, Katarina," My father assured her.

"You're my husband," She said. "You're required to say that. I'm sick, Gabriel, not stupid."

"But with _fantastic_ hair," He assured her.

"Well, an argument could be made for '_decent_' or '_alright looking_ -'," Kota began to say but cut off when my mother shot him a pointed expression and raised an eyebrow.

Kota sighed heavily, albeit somewhat dramatially. "But, I suppose '_fantastic_,' could work as well."

My mother was the only one of us with dark, chestnut colored hair and brown eyes.

We all got my father's light blond hair and pale green eyes so my mother stood out in our family.

"Why are you allowed to insult your hair, but I can't?" Kota complained.

I leaned against the back door for a few moments, quietly watching the exchanges between my family and hoping to mentally take a picture of it and commit it to memory in case I'd ever forget it.

My father hummed as he made breakfast, a simple meal of oats and milk and spoke of the raspberry jam he'd been saving for a month for after dinner.

It was amazing, really, how alive he became around my mother when she was moving around and not bedridden and incapable of speaking.

"We'll be going soon," My mother, who'd barely touched her plate, said in a soft voice, when we'd finished eating. "We should get ready."

And just like that, the somewhat-cheery atmosphere crumbled around us, but she was right.

"Come on, Cass," I said, lifting her off of the counter where'd she'd insisted on eating and starting to lead her upstairs. "Time to get dressed."

In our room, I opened the trunk at the foot of her bed and pulled out a blouse and shirt for her.

She complained. She wanted to wear pants, she said.

"I know," I said. "But none of your pants are quite nice enough."

That was a bit of an understatement, really. She'd gotten holes and tears in just about all of them, doing who knows what.

She didn't need to dress particularly nice because she wasn't entered in the reaping yet but it was still expected of everyone to dress reasonably well anyway.

She fidgeted in the skirt and gave up, plopping down onto her bed and swinging her legs back and forth. "Are you going to wear Astrella's dress?"

I didn't like wearing Astrella's old clothes. I felt like I didn't belong in them but they'd been passed down to me but I rarely touched them.

"I don't think so -,"

"_Oh!_" Cassia cried, hurrying out to the tiny closet in the hall where we kept the few, expensive pieces of clothing that we owned.

She came back with a softly colored, short-sleeved floral dress, waving it around.

"Oh, Cass," I said with a sigh. "I don't think I could -,"

But she shoved it into my hands anyway. "If I have to wear a skirt, then you have to wear this."

So I put it on, really so she'd stop fussing, but marveled at the soft feeling of the material as it brushed against my skin and fell from my waist.

It fell short on me but I was taller than Astrella had been, so I supposed it was meant to be longer.

Cassia complained when I pulled on socks and a pair of beige combat boots made of a soft fabric but I ignored her.

"You can't wear boots with a dress," She said.

I looked at my feet. The rumpled socks stuck out over the tops of the boots but I only shrugged.

Then she ran out of the room and dragged my mother back, pushing her in her wheelchair.

My mother had changed into a pretty, blue dress and looked to have been in the middle of pinning up her hair when Cassia had dragged her out.

At the sight of me, my mother smiled. "Oh, Rowan. You look beautiful."

Cassia whispered something into her ear.

"Oh, very well," My mother said with a smile, picking up the pearl necklace in her lap. "For you," She said.

I eyed it warily. It was easily my mother's most cherished possession, something she'd been given by her father.

Kota hadn't want to break her heart by selling it so he'd hid it when we tried to. We didn't want to of course, but it was better than having anyone apply for tesserae.

Not that there were so many buyers in 10, of course, considering the plague that spread through a lot of the livestock that year so it wouldn't have made much of a difference, but it would have been something.

"Don't you want to wear it?" I asked but my mother shook her head.

"You'd look so beautiful in it," She said. "And Astrella wore it with that dress. Oh, dear, you look so much like her, Rowan."

Suddenly, it looked like a noose.

Cassia was looking at the necklace in awe so I crouched down and clasped it around her own neck.

She looked up at me with wide-eyes. "But Ro, don't you want to wear it?"

I gave her a small, encouraging smile. "You look much lovelier in it than I ever could."

I didn't know what my mother was thinking but she looked at me for a moment before beaming brightly at Cassia as my sister spun to show the necklace off to her.

"Sit, Rowan," My mother said to me. "I'll do your hair."

So I sat on the edge of Cassia's bed as my mother braided the front sections of my hair back and pinned them in place, the rest falling down my back in soft waves.

While she did that, Cass had disappeared and she made her return them, carrying a basket of small, white flowers.

"Do mine!" She pleaded with my mother, who braided her hair back and into small bun at the nape of her neck.

My mother had only just put the last pin in place before Cassia was up and insisting that she do my mother's.

My mother obliged and as Cassia fiddled with her hair, met my gaze.

"Am I going to regret this?" She asked in a hushed voice.

Cassia lightly swatted the side of her head. "I can hear you."

"Sorry, dear," My mother said, gently reaching behind her to tap Cassia's hand in reassurance.

Cassia only huffed but when she was done, she stepped back to view her work and clapped her hands together.

It looked, very predictably, as if a seven year old had done it because that was exactly what had happened.

My mother could probably have managed to look lovely no matter what was done to her hair, so even though Cassia had simply braided random bits of it and pulled a few back, clasping them together at the back, she still looked beautiful.

Cassia, pleased with herself, rushed to get a small, handheld mirror to show her and my mother took in her reflection for a moment and then grabbed Cassia's face and showered her in kisses as Cass giggled and struggled to get away.

"I look just like those models from the Capitol, wouldn't you say?" My mother said, striking an outlandish pose, when Cassia had slipped away.

"Oh! One more thing!" Cassia said and as she ducked to pick up her basket of flowers, my mother mimed looking terrified but grinned widely as Cassia spun back around.

She put a few of the small, white flowers in my mother's hair, slipping them into the braids and then did the same to my hair before her own.

She had some left so she showered them all over my mother.

"We are a walking botanical garden," My mother said to me in mock horror when Cassia hurried out of the room, eager to show off her work with the others.

"You don't think she'll come back with a pair of shears then, do you?"

"No," My mother answered with a laugh. "But maybe a watering can."

"Or pesticide."

"Or pollinators."

"Or an army of small girls in lace blouses."

"Or -," But my mother couldn't finish her sentence because she broke off, laughing.

Just then, my father entered, being pulled along by Cassia.

"Yes, your hair does look beautiful, Cass -," He was saying but paused when he entered.

"Oh, Rowan!" He said, splaying out his arms for effect. "The sun is dull in comparison to you!"

My mother coughed.

"Yes, yes, Katarina," My father said. "You look okay too."

As my mother began to wheel out of the room, my father laughed and pulled her back, kissing her as Cassia scrunched up her face in disgust.

"I'm only teasing," My father said, clearly trying not to smile. "I think Kota is truly the prettiest."

My mother laughed, reaching for my father's hand as he promised to meet us downstairs and they slipped out the doorway.

I heard him helping her down the steps and turned to Cassia.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked.

She nodded, biting her lip and I could tell something was weighing down on her.

I poked her stomach. "What's wrong? You can tell me, you know."

She fussed with the hem of her blouse. "I - well - you and Kota, that lady isn't going take you away with her, is she?"

The lady she was talking about was Odessa Bray, our district escort and by getting taken away, Cassia clearly meant getting reaped.

"No," I said. "We're not going anywhere."

She seemed to consider this for a moment before holding out her pinky. "Promise?"

I paused for only a moment before interlocking my pinky with hers and shaking it. "Now, come on. We don't want to be late."

Because District 10 was so big and spaced out, it was difficult to get to the town square, where the reaping was held every year.

We couldn't push my mother in wheelchair the whole way so we started up the rusted pickup truck that we kept on the side of the house, rarely used and with a tendency to break down every few miles, but it was all we had.

We'd traded some of the best livestock that we had for it so that we'd be able to get my mother to town quickly, should anything emergency come up.

She'd hated that we'd done it for her, even though we pretended we'd just randomly wanted it, but she saw right through that.

Not many people owned cars in 10 but some method of travel was necessary so we could've made a bit of money picking up others but gas was limited as it was and we needed to preserve it.

We parked on a side street about a half mile away from the square. We didn't want to drive in any closer because the stares made us comfortable.

We weren't the wealthiest in 10 but we were well enough off that we had more than most. Like the truck, for example.

As we filed in behind a large group heading for the square, my family's friendly resolve had faded and I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat.

The wheels of my mother's wheelchair rattled as they rolled over the street and I tried to focus on that rhythm to keep me calm.

I felt someone squeeze my hand and saw Ollie holding it tightly. I gave him what I thought was a reassuring smile, if not somewhat marked by nervousness, but then realized he'd been staring at the hanging tree in a shadowed corner of the square and had been frightened.

There were new bodies today and I took only a quick glance to make sure I didn't know any of them.

I recognized a boy from a class above me at school and dropped my gaze.

I couldn't stop the vivid memory from spiraling into my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut but Astrella was still there, her feet dangling in the air and her dead eyes screaming.

"Don't look," I whispered to Ollie and he nodded, jerking his head down. He'd been eight when Astrella was hung three years ago so he remembered it too and it was no doubt what he was thinking of.

I felt a fresh wave of anger wash over me. I hated that damn tree more than anything else in the world.

I glanced at Kota. We both knew it was time to leave our families behind us.

He nodded curtly, setting Cassia, who'd he'd been holding, down.

Ollie gripped my hand harder. "Please, stay."

"You know I can't," I said, smoothing down his hair and fixing the collar of his shirt. "But I'll be back. We both will. You know that."

He nodded. "Can we go riding tonight, then?"

I nodded. "We can go to White Peak," I promised. The ridge of the small mountain was beautiful at sunset and the terrain was easy to ride up.

"Okay," He said, letting go of my hand. "Don't forget."

Cassia tugged on my dress and I spun around and scooped her up in my arms, kissing her forehead and then passing her over to my father.

I kissed my parents on the cheek and then, with a last fleeting glance at my family, fell in step with Kota as we made our way to the registration table and waited in line.

The square, which was generally very big anyway, was packed to the rim with people and others were still streaming in.

Even the mudlarks who lived in the mountains showed up. Well, it was show up or go to the hanging tree and the mudlarks knew better than anyone else what would happen then.

I watched as a small mudlark girl with steaks of dirt and dust in her hair and grime on her clothing ran through the crowd and threw her arms around the leg of a boy a few people in front of me.

The mudlarks were, generally, the poorest people in 10. They'd flocked to the mountains ages ago, looking to live there but realized there were no resources there and they couldn't survive there all on their own.

They had no homes and no jobs or money or food or anything, really.

But we didn't dislike them because of their lack of money or general uncleanliness. We were all used to that, to some extent anyway.

It was because of what they did to survive and the way the Peacekeepers pretended not to notice.

The Peacekeepers, in truth, were just happy that they weren't dying in the streets or begging for food at every doorstep, although some did on occasion. So as long as they didn't have to see them, they didn't care.

But the deeper meaning behind our indifference toward them was centered aroundhowthey adapted to survive and it was hard to look at them knowing what they did.

Knowing what happened to Astrella.

The small girl sobbed and tried to hang on to who I assumed to be her brother as an older woman, who was even filthier in her drab skirt, pried her away and hurried her off.

The girl's worry was understandable. When a mudlark was reaped, it wasn't very surprising. There weren't a lot of them so it didn't happen every year but they still applied for tesserae more than anyone else.

Although, they couldn't have needed to as much as usual lately considering the surpluses of bodies from the recent increase in hangings.

I knew that the mudlarks did what they could to survive and I considered the ultimatum. Food or death. But I didn't think I could ever bring myself to do what they did.

The Peacekeepers thought of them as tiny bugs that were annoying but they were too lazy to exterminate.

I just tried to not think of them all together but it was difficult for the image of the girl's sunken-in face and the outline of her bones beneath her skin to disappear from my mind.

There was a donation service set up for them, and we put what food we could spare in it sometimes - despite our feelings toward them, but because it was in the open - considering nobody was willing to bring the food directly to them - the food donated was often stolen by others who lived in town before it could reach them.

I hadn't realized I'd reached the front of the line until Kota nudged me.

"Name?" The annoyed woman sitting behind the registration table inquired.

"Rowan Casterly."

The woman marked something down and I held out my finger. There was a slight pinch as she drew a drop of my blood.

"Next," She called before I'd even moved away.

I'd nearly lost Kota in those few seconds but caught side of his blond head being ushered aside from registration.

I shouted for him and he turned around in relief.

He squeezed my shoulder when I'd caught up to him. "You okay?"

I nodded but it was hard to stay calm with that stupid, blasted tree looming in the corner of the square.

"Kota!" A voice shouted. "Rowan!"

Lark broke away from the crowd and jogged toward us, Mieka at his side in a pretty purple dress with her red curls falling down her back.

I allowed myself a moment of relief. I didn't want to have to find Mieka in the crowded sea of faces.

Everyone had begun to separate into their age groups, youngest in the back and oldest in the front and Kota sighed.

"I suppose that's our cue," He said and any trace of humor had left his eyes. He stepped forward to hug me. "See you soon."

I nodded as he stepped away, winked at Mieka and then joined Lark as they crossed over to their age section.

Mieka was looking for someone in the crowd. Her cousin who'd just turned twelve.

She must have caught her eye because she waved and tried to smile at her.

When she glanced back at me, I motioned ahead of us. "Shall we?"

Mieka was supposed to stand with the other fifteen year olds but I wouldn't be fifteen for another few weeks and we refused to separate, so we stood together silently on the edge of both.

The temporary stage constructed in front of the Justice Building held five chairs and I glanced up to see that they were filled.

The mayor, an older woman with sharp lines in her face and a distinct, punctual speech was seated in the first one, next to the district's escort, Odessa Bray.

Odessa didn't have green skin or blue hair like some of the other escorts I'd seen before. Instead, she held an uncanny resemblance to the porcelain dolls I sometimes saw in shop windows.

My father bought me one once for my birthday when I was younger and Odessa shared the same paper-white skin and dark, glassy, Asian eyes.

She was a bit terrifying, really, with over-pronounced cheekbones and pursed lips.

The only color on her face was the splash of red on her perfectly painted lips.

Her black hair was pulled away from her face and fell down her back.

She sat perfectly straight, as if there was, in fact, a doll stand holding her in place.

She looked as if she belonged in a display case, not as an escort for a district who tended to farm animals.

The remaining three chairs were filled with the last surviving victors of District 10.

Riordan Stark sat in the chair closest to Odessa Bray. He was the oldest surviving victor and was probably fifty or so by now.

Next to him, Kiva Everett sat, regarding the crowd with a cool, indifferent gaze. Before she won when she was seventeen, she'd worked with her father in her family's butchering shop. I'd only been seven during her Games, but I'd heard from kids at school about how she had hacked other tributes to death with a machete, as if they cows in a pasture waiting to be killed.

Levi Aplin sat in the fifth chair, staring calmly ahead. His mouth was set in a hard line and his expression cold but he must have caught sight of someone in the crowd, because his demeanor changed and he flashed them a brilliant, if not somewhat reassuring, grin.

The mayor rose to her feet, crossing to the podium erected in the center of the stage.

The crowd's reaction was instantaneous.

A eerie hush spread over the mass of people gathered in the square and the only sound was the heavy, nervous breathing of the kids around me.

Somewhere, a child started to cry in the distance. A baby, probably.

The mayor told the story of Panem, outlining its history for us, like she did every year.

As she went on to explain the uprising of the districts against the Capitol and the creation of the Hunger Games, I realized I had stopped paying attention, too caught up in my own thoughts.

It wasn't until she began to read off the names of the past District 10 victors that I realized she'd finished her speech.

District 10 had four victors, one of which who died before I was born.

Riordan was the second and gave a polite, albeit uncomfortable, nod at the mention of his name and when Kiva's name was called, she leaned over and whispered something in Levi's ear, making him look slightly annoyed and she laughed at his expression, her white teeth flashing brightly against her tanned skin.

When the mayor called Levi's name, he set his jaw and tensed, barely acknowledging it.

The obligatory, half-hearted applause that the district offered withered out until it died completely.

The mayor introduced Odessa Bray, who sat up sharply and made her way toward the podium in a dress of soft, pearlescent fabric that reminded me of the petals of a flower.

The sound of her high heels clicking against the stage echoed throughout the square.

Her fingers brushed against the wood of the podium and she tapped the thin microphone twice before speaking.

She seemed bored, really. Maybe even a bit annoyed. It had forever perplexed me how she had gotten this job. The other district escorts were bubbly and obnoxious but Odessa seemed to regard the whole thing with a cool detachment.

She didn't bother much with an introduction, only mentioned something about how it was her "honor to be announcing this year's tributes" in her clear, Capitol accent and rambled about the fortune she relieved with the opportunity.

When she was done, she smiled dryly and announced the beginning of the reaping.

I felt a squeeze of pressure on my hand and nearly jumped but when I looked down, it was only Mieka, having reached out and grabbed my hand tightly as Odessa crossed the stage and paused in front of the large, glass bowl containing the girl's names.

"And District 10's female tribute is," She called out, reaching her hand into the bowl and digging around achingly slowly, as if trying to draw it out for suspense.

I squeezed Mieka's hand so tightly I was afraid I would cut off her circulation.

Despite all the assurances that I wouldn't be chosen, despite the odds that weighed heavily on my favor and despite the improbability of it all, I found myself throwing it all away in those few, agonizingly slow moments as the possibility of my being reaped seemed to explode in front of me.

I silently pleaded that it wouldn't be me, repeating the mantra over and over in my head.

Not me, I begged. Not me or Mieka or anyone I knew.

I felt a sharp twinge of guilt in wishing a stranger to be condemned to such a fate but bit my lip and tried to push it away, because what else could I do?

Odessa's thin fingers closed around a slip of paper and she pulled it out, slowly, tentatively.

She waited until she had crossed back over to the podium until she opened the slip of paper bearing the name that condemned its unfortunate owner to their probable death.

She smoothed it out neatly in her palm and each second felt like a thousand years.

My hand had drained of its color by the pressure of Mieka's grip as Odessa leaned into the microphone and, in her impeccable accent, called out a name.

"Rowan Casterly."

The name seemed unfamiliar - foreign, even - but before I could be met with a rush of relief, I realized that Mieka's grip on my hand was gone and she was staring at me in horror.

And suddenly, the name no longer felt distant to me as the weight of it sunk in me.

It was my name.

I'd broken my promises.

Author's Note

Hey, hi, hello. So, a few things: I know Odessa probably wouldn't be described as having "Asian eyes" because that word probably wasn't in the Official Panem National Dictionary or anything but I wasn't quite sure how else to put it because I know that the generic "almond-shaped eyes" description is a bit stereotypical and I didn't want to offend anyone. I threw in the bit of French as well because I thought it was interesting to bring different countries and whatnot into it. Not sure how it all came across. Also, and I'm sorry this note is a bit long, I edited the format on the last chapter. A few names were off and some words were mushed together so nothing serious. Also (last also, I swear), I will really try to break down my chapter sizes. I just tend to get a bit carried away like I am doing right now. Sorry if you actually read this entire author's note.

Ok, i'm done now.

p.s. comments r cool and so r u (lol sorry that was really bad but i have no shame)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

I'd never been in one of the trucks that I sometimes saw the Peacekeepers sometimes drive in, much less stood in front of a moving one as it slammed into my chest but I could imagine the feeling must be similar to how I felt now as my shaking legs walked toward the stage.

It was as if I had some sort of plague, the way the kids around me stepped away. Afraid I would contaminate them, too.

I was only faintly aware of the shouting in the distance.

My name, I realized.

Somehow, I managed to ascend the steps to the stage and stand next to Odessa.

Levi stared at me, a spark of recognition behind his eyes.

Kiva winked at me.

I felt nauseous and had to fight off the urge to puke.

I could see Cassia fighting against my father's grip as she tried to break free.

She was shouting my name and I had to look away to keep from crying.

I bit my lip, hard, hoping the pain of it would distract me from the overwhelming urge to start sobbing.

My teeth ripped through the skin and a thin trickle of blood spilled over my lip.

_Don't cry_, I repeated to myself. _Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry._

The hanging tree was off to the side of the stage, out of view of the cameras, so I watched it from the corner of my eye, the sight of the limp bodies hardening my gaze.

The people in the square were silent as they watched me.

Odessa stared at me for a moment and I couldn't read the expression on her before she turned away and called for the standard wave of applause but it was faint and half-hearted.

The solemn sea of faces stared at me. Some in relief, some in pity.

They must know that my name being called was improbable.

But not impossible.

I could see the shuffling near the outer perimeter of the square, where the families wait, as people holding betting slips look dismayed.

Those people aren't upset that I will be facing my imminent death, of course, merely only by the fact that they probably had betted on one of the kids who lived on the outskirts of the district, in the poorer parts, being reaped and therefore, lost money.

As the feeble applause dwindled, Odessa clapped her hand together.

"Now," Odessa said warily. "It's time to select our male tribute."

But I couldn't focus on her as she crossed to the other side of the stage, reaching her name into the glass bowl containing the boys name.

I couldn't hear anything but the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears as I tried not to breakdown.

I hid my hands behind my back so nobody could see how tightly I was clenching my fists.

I thought of Kota's name written neatly on those paper slips and tried to focus on anything else.

Odessa cleared her throat and I could hear her saying a boy's name.

"Cole Aplin."

I was too caught up in relief for Kota that I hadn't realized why everyone had turned to stare at Levi with wide eyes until the boy's name registered in my mind.

He was Levi Aplin's younger brother.

The boy - twelve years old, I remembered - looked just like him, only with softer features, and as he climbed up the steps, I could see him glance nervously toward his brother, who was gripping the side of his chair with clenched fists.

Odessa stared at the boy in front of her, at Levi and then at the slip in her hand and looked almost pained.

Even Kiva looked down.

No. No, the Capitol couldn't do that.

Except they could and they had.

Odessa turned to Cole. "Could it be that you're District 10's very own victor Levi Aplin's brother?" She asked, although she clearly already knew the answer and didn't look particularly thrilled about it.

Cole didn't respond, instead he turned to face his brother who was only staring ahead rigidly.

When he faced Odessa again, he only offered a slight nod.

"Well," She said finally in a dry, almost rehearsed voice. "What an exciting turn of events! Now, the matter of volunteering. If there are any in the audience, please step forward."

It was protocol, really. District 10 hadn't had a volunteer in ages and that probably wasn't going to change soon.

As nobody stepped forward, Odessa opened her mouth to speak again but there was movement in the crowd and my eyes flashed over to Kota warily stepping forward.

He locked eyes with mine and as I realized what he was going to do, I shook my head sharply.

_Don't you dare_, my expression said. _I swear I'll kill you myself if you do that_.

He froze then, knowing I'd never forgive him but still looked as if he was going to step forward.

My eyes found Mieka's in the crowd. She was crying, silent tears slipping down her face and I conveyed a silent plea to her.

_Please. Don't let him_.

She must have understood what I meant because she stepped out of line and crossed over to where Kota was, laying a hand on his shoulder and saying something softly to him.

Whatever she'd said, it worked because he backed down and Mieka gently hugged him and he buried his face in her hair.

Odessa watched the exchange with a guarded expression and waited a few more moments but when no volunteers came, she cleared her throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you District 10's tributes for the 73rd Hunger Games!"

Her proclamation was met with the customary, polite, yet strained, applause.

Nobody was smiling but I could see the relief in the children's faces. They were safe, for now at least, and could cling onto that knowledge for another year.

I found that I couldn't focus on a single line that the mayor said as stepped up to read the Treaty of Treason aloud.

I could only think of my family and what this meant for them.

"Go on," Odessa Bray urged in my ear. "Shake his hand."

I swallowed down the lump in my throat and held out my hand, crossing the distance between us.

Cole's blue eyes found mine as he reached out to clasp my hand.

He was staring at me wide-eyed and when we shook hands, I couldn't tell who was trembling more.

But I steadied myself as the anthem of Panem blared throughout the square and we turned to face the crowd.

I willed myself not to break down in front of these people so I gritted my teeth and straightened my back.

The anthem ended and Peacekeepers escorted us abruptly inside.

Cole and I didn't speak but before the silence could become too unbearable, I was skirted away, down a hallway and into a large, lavish room.

I didn't really take much note of it, other than the rich, mahogany paneling on the walls and the marble statues on their pedestals.

I felt dizzy and sunk into the nearest chair, burying my face in my hands as a million possible scenarios ran through my head, all of them ending in some unpleasant and violent death.

I didn't start crying until the doors opened and my father was there.

I burst toward him and flung my arms around his neck.

His arms tightened around my back and when we pulled away, I realized he was crying too.

"Rowan," He said, placing his arms on my shoulders to keep me steady as a choked sound escaped my throat. "Rowan, it'll be okay. You'll get out of this. Listen to me -,"

My father must have pushed past the guards to get to me because then the doors opened again as Cassia, Ollie and my mother were ushered in by Peacekeepers.

Cassia squeezed her way between Ollie and my mother and threw her arms around me.

She was sobbing, clinging to the fabric of my dress.

I clasped her face in my hands.

"Cass," I said softly, wiping a tear away from her cheek. "Cass, it's alright."

She shook her head stubbornly. "I don't want you to die."

I bit my lip. "I won't," I assured her but the words turned to ashes in my mouth.

"You promised me, Ro," She said.

"I know," I said with a pained expression. "But I'll make you a new one right now, okay? If you can help and make sure mom gets better, then I'll try my hardest to come back."

She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve and nodded but before she could say anything else, I'd turned to Ollie and pulled him into an embrace.

He let a few tears escape, brushing them away before they slid down his cheeks. "You told me you weren't going to be picked."

I smoothed out his fair hair that had become slightly ruffled.

"I know," I said. "But maybe it won't be as bad as you think."

I was trying to be strong, for their sake, but despite any hope any of us had, I knew the chances of me coming back were slim.

"You have to," He said, reaching out to grab my hand. "Please, Ro."

"Take care of yourself," I said softly. "Tell me you will."

"I will," He said. "But you have to take care of yourself, too."

"Deal," I said, managing a small, sad smile. "And when I come back, the first thing we'll do is ride to White Peak."

And then I was hugging my mother, wrapping my arms around her tightly.

She couldn't speak, only cling onto me hopelessly.

I knew how hard it must be for them. They'd already lost one daughter and now they were going to lose another.

My father reached out to place a comforting arm on my mother's back and she collapsed in sobs.

"I'm proud of you, Rowan," My father said. "No matter what happens. You have to know that."

_No matter what happens._

The words felt like a sharp knife cutting into my chest.

I nodded, letting out a choked sound.

"Here," He said, holding something out to me. A panflute. "You should have it."

My father had made it for me when I was younger. He'd crafted the pipes out of thin, wood and banded them together with a leather cord we'd woven together. In the wood of the panflute, he'd carved the andscape of District 10. The familiar mountains, flowers and even the small birds.

I traced our carved names in the corner with my finger. So small, they were almost illegible. Rowan and Gabriel, which I'd crossed out and written 'Dad.'

It was roughly the size of my hand, with a thin leather strap that I slipped over my neck.

He used to play all the time and whenever we rode out to see the sun set in the valley, behind the mountains as we sat in the fields of flowers, I'd beg him to play and then he taught me too as well.

Ever since my mother got sick, he rarely played anymore but I still did, sometimes. Cassia and Ollie loved to hear it and I played at the races a lot, around the bonfire.

"Thank you," I told him softly and trying not to cry again. I hadn't even thought about a district token but he had and I was grateful for it. It reminded me of home.

The Peacekeepers were at the door then, telling them that their time was up. That they had to go.

The only words I could find were "I love you" and "I'll miss you" over and over as I hugged them and then they were gone and the door slammed shut behind them, leaving me alone.

I barely had time to take a deep breath before the door opened again.

Mieka rushed toward me and wrapped her arms around me before I could even say a word.

She was sobbing and that made me cry all over again.

"Ro, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," She said, trembling and shaking her head. "It should have been me. You don't deserve this -,"

"No, Mieka," I said. "Don't say that."

"Rowan, _please_!" She cried. "You're brave and smart and - and you have so much more to live for! Ro - no, listen to me - _you're the best of us_. And I was scared. I was too scared to go up there and take your place and I hate myself for it and -,"

"Mieka," I said in a broken, desperate voice. "Mieka, stop -,"

"No!" She cried. "Rowan, you don't understand! You're my best friend and I've known since I was four that you were going to do something with your life! You were going to change something, be someone! It's who you are and the world can't stand to lose that."

She tried to say something else but choked up and cried again and we held each other again.

"You can win, Ro," She whispered. "I know you can."

"Mieka -," I started to say in a dejected tone but she cut me off.

"Don't talk like that, Rowan. Do not talk like you've already lost," She said and when the Peacekeepers came back to take her away, she clung to me once more. "I love you, Ro."

"I love you, too," I said in a small, broken voice and then she was gone.

The wait was longer this time before the doors opened again and Kota came through them this time and I ran forward and threw my arms around him, hugging him fiercely.

"You can get out of this," He was saying. "I know you can. You're smart, Rowan. Smart enough to win. And you're quick. The knives, Ro. You can use knives."

"Well, it's not bottles that I'll be throwing them at."

"Just pretend it is. You have good aim. If you can get your hands on a knife or two, then -,"

"What good are knives against swords and arrows?"

"You'll find a way," He assured me and his eyes were rimmed with tears. "I know you will. Just be careful, okay? Promise me you'll be careful."

"I will," I said. "Promise."

He pulled me to his chest again, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

We stayed like that for a while, holding each other because it may very well be the last time we'd get to.

"I should have just volunteered for that kid, Ro," He finally said. "I should have -,"

"No," I said, suddenly angry. "What would you have accomplished? Two _more_ dead kids for mom and dad to deal with? What were you thinking?"

"I don't know, Ro!" He cried out. "That maybe I could make sure you won!"

My voice wavered and threatened to to break down at the desperation I'm his voice but forced myself to swallow and try to stay strong.

"You have to make sure mom keeps getting the medicine," I said finally, when I'd somewhat composed myself. "Keep going to the races. You'll have to ride. Or maybe Cass can. Just don't let anything happen to mom or anyone."

"I'll take care of it," He promised.

"Take care of yourself, too," I said. "Don't forget that."

"I won't."

Then when the Peacekeepers came to get Kota, he pulled me into his arms once more, squeezing my tightly.

"I don't want to say goodbye," I admitted in a small, shaky voice.

"So don't," He said, shaking his head. He ruffled my hair one last time with red-rimmed eyes and a rough voice. "Catch you later, kid."

And then the door shut behind him and I was truly alone.

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, although it felt like hours, before two Peacekeepers appeared at the door to take me to the train station.

The ride was short and I didn't see Cole again until I stepped out onto the train platform. He arrived a few minutes after me and whereas I was sure I must have looked somewhat distraught, he looked calm.

The train station was crowded with reporters and their cameras, all swarming around the pair of us for the best angle.

I realized that I was being aired live, so I tried to replicate Cole's placid expression.

I thought of the hanging tree and my jaw hardened as I felt the familiar sensation of anger. Not just at the Peacekeepers but at the Games and President Snow the whole Capitol.

We were ushered inside the sleek, silver train after pausing for the cameras and I nearly gaped at the interior of it.

The walls practically glittered and the cart we were led to was draped in silks and satins with glass furniture and plush sofas.

There were spare clothes in the compartment that served as my chambers but the fabrics were foreign and unfamiliar and I wanted to cling onto even a small, semblance of home so I washed myself off but slid back into my own dress.

I did find a light-brown cardigan made of the softest material I'd ever felt, so I pulled that on over my dress, hugging it around me.

District 10 wasn't very far from the Capitol so the train ride wouldn't be a long one but they'd still deigned it necessary to supply me with a compartment.

Before long, Odessa came to bring me to supper and I followed her out of my compare my and to the dining compartment.

The dining compartment was fancier than anything I'd seen before with its glass chandelier and marble table.

Two of the chairs were occupied by Cole and Levi Aplin.

Levi was saying something to Cole, who was nodding.

I slid into the seat across from them cautiously and they both looked up at the sound of my seat scraping against the floor.

I glanced away uncomfortably.

Doubtlessly, Levi was Cole's mentor, which meant that Kiva Everett was mine. I'd seen her on the train platform and I hadn't seen Riordan.

I didn't know how to feel about that. Kiva had always terrified me a bit.

As if on cue, the door to the compartment slid open and she sauntered in, dropping into a chair next to Levi.

She was followed by two Peacekeepers who retreated to the corners of the compartment.

"Evening, Levi," Kiva said brightly and then leaned across him to squeeze Cole's cheek.

"Levi junior," She said and laughed at her joke.

Levi appeared almost immune to her behavior, because he didn't seem fazed.

"Kiva," He said without looking up at her. "Don't you have something else to do?"

She shrugged, reaching across him to swipe a roll of bread from the platter in front of him.

"Rather than spend time with my favorite best bud?" She inquired as she picked up a knife and began to butter it. "Nope, not really."

When the food was set out on the table, Kiva appeared to notice me for the first time, narrowing her eye that seemed to sparkle a thousand shades of blue and green.

She pointed at me with her knife.

"Rona?" She asked.

"Rowan," I corrected.

She shrugged. "Same difference."

I didn't know how to respond, so I ate a spoonful of my pea soup but I could practically feel Kiva's eyes boring into me.

It looked as if Kiva had cut her hair herself. It was brown and layered, falling down unevenly a bit past her shoulders, with a few streaks braided.

Kiva was a descendent of one of the old tribes that traced back centuries. Most had been wiped out during the revolution but some people remained, scattered here and there throughout the district.

"Ignore her," Levi said to me. "She's crazy."

"It's true," Kiva boasted. "I have the doctor's diagnosis to prove it. I hung it up on my fridge. I'm awfully proud to be a _certified_ lunatic."

But Levi only snorted. "You threatened to decapitate the doctor with your feet. Of course he'd say you were crazy."

She shrugged, as if she didn't understand it. "Whatever."

Odessa came in then. She'd changed out of her reaping outfit and into a long, loose, simple gown - reminiscent of a dressing gown - that flowed behind her as she walked and she'd pulled her hair up into a loose bun.

Kiva glanced at her and then lowered her eyes to the floor as Odessa poured herself a cup of tea, looking slightly uncomfortably.

Then supper was served in too many courses and I could never hope to eat all of them. But I'd never tasted anything like the food that was served with its new, rich flavors.

I was so I was too unnerved to really eat and I was afraid that whatever I ate would come right back up so I was careful to only pick at it.

When I looked up, I realized that Levi hadn't even touched his food.

Cole had managed to eat some but kept pausing to cast nervous glances at his older brother.

Kiva left in the middle of the meal and when it was apparent none of us were going to eat anymore, Odessa made a suggestion that we go watch the replay of the other reapings.

I didn't really want to have to examine the faces of those who I would be competing against, and probably get killed by, but they'd already begun to file out and I didn't know where else to go.

Levi, who had relaxed slightly during dinner, was once again staring at the television with a hard facial expression me.

I wished that I could read his thoughts.

Odessa flicked on the screen just as the District 1 escort called out a girl's name but even before the girl could ascend the steps, a girl named Maddox, who was probably Kota's age, was bounding forward to volunteer.

She strutted up the stage steps confidently, tossing her strawberry blond hair over her shoulder, and beaming at the crowd.

It was obvious she'd be one of the favorites.

A monstrous boy abruptly volunteered for the male tribute and the size of him sent a shiver down my spine. He could probably break my neck with his bare hands.

The District 2 tributes were even worse.

The girl, Letha, who volunteered for the female tribute strode forward with the prowess of a cat. Her dark green eyes, sharp in comparison to the pale shade of my own, were piercing as they swept across the crowd gathered in her district square and I could feel a knot forming in my stomach.

But the volunteer that replaced the District 1's boy tribute sent a shiver down my spine.

He was frightening, with a razor sharp smile and air of lazy confidence but what set me off was the way his dark blue eyes seemed to be staring into me.

The boy, Sebastian, didn't even flinch as he ascended the steps to stand next to Letha.

He was intimidating with the sharp lines of his cheekbones and his black hair.

The female tribute for District 3 was a thirteen year old and I felt a pang of pity as the girl tried not to cry.

The twelve year old from District 5 didn't try to hide his tears.

"Pity."

Kiva's voice from behind me made me jump in surprise.

She took note of my reaction and grinned, sliding over the edge of the couch to sit next to me.

Levi glanced at her and turned back to the screen as the District 7 tributes were being reaped, but I had stopped paying attention. I didn't want to watch anymore.

"Shouldn't you be killing the cook or something?" Levi asked with a sigh.

"And miss out on all the fun?"

Levi snorted, but didn't turn to say anything else.

Kiva turned to me. "What's your name again?"

"Rowan."

"Well, since I'm your mentor, I feel like I should introduce myself," She said, leaning back on the couch and propping her feet up on the table.

"Kiva Everett," She announced, sticking her hand out to me.

I hesitantly shook it.

"Great, now that that's out of the way, I'll offer my token advice to you and be done with it. Grab something sharp and swing at whatever comes after you."

She got up, patted my head awkwardly, and began to slip out of the room, but lingered by the doorway for a moment.

"And with that, I would like to announce my retirement as a mentor. Take it away, Levi," She said with a sweeping gesture of her arm and backed dramatically out of the room.

Cole tried not to laugh and Odessa frowned after her.

I realized that Cole hadn't said so much as a word to me and couldn't help but wonder if it was some sort of personal vendetta against me, because I was going to become his enemy.

Levi sighed and turned to me. "Look, I guess I'm your acting mentor or whatever. Kiva - she's difficult to get along with but sometimes she says things that aren't entirely unintelligent."

I shrugged. "Swinging sharp stuff at people seems like the general idea."

"If you're Kiva, at least. That's how she won. She went a bit insane and hacked a bunch of tributes to death with a machete." He paused before adding "don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because those tributes are probably better with weapons than you are. Kiva just wasn't quite there mentally and went on a bloodthirsty rampage after her district partner was killed. No offense or anything, but you don't really strike me as the bloodthirsty type."

"How do you know?" I retorted, straightening my stature in attempt to appear intimidating, albeit failing miserably. He was right, of course, but for some reason I felt defensive around him. "I killed a sheep, once."

I could have sworn that, for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitched.

He raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse me. I'm paralyzed by my blinding fear of you."

I scowled, slumping back in resignation. I looked back up at the screen just as District 10 was announced.

Odessa was there, reaching her hand into the sea of names and pulling one out. She read mine and I saw myself climb the steps.

To my surprise, I looked more put together then I'd thought. I looked too unable to process the situation to really be able to react to it.

But I didn't possess the air of fierceness that the Careers had. My feet were turned in toward one another and one skinny leg was bent toward the other and one of my hands was fiddling with the hem of my dress.

There was a crinkle in my dress and I wondered, for a moment, if my mother would patronize me for it until I remembered she couldn't because I wasn't back home and I probably never would be again.

My skinny, knobby knees had cuts on them from when I had raised Kota through the bull a few days ago, but it felt years away now.

Then Odessa called out Cole's name and Levi stiffened again. He drew back into himself, like I'd seem him do before, where he only stared ahead with a blank, if not somewhat strained, expression.

He got up and left without a word and Odessa slipped out not long afterwards.

I looked to Cole but he looked unbothered by it.

I realized that it was the first time Cole and I were alone together.

I didn't know him. I'd never met him, but I knew Levi had a younger brother. I faintly remembered Cole being interviewed for Levi's Games last year.

Cole looked unperturbed about the events transpiring around him and I could only wonder what was going inside his head.

I felt like I should say something - anything - but I couldn't think of a single thing.

There was the weather, of course, but I didn't what to say about it other than that it was hot. It was too conventional.

But I did it anyway.

"So," I said, awkwardly clearing my throat. "Some weather we're, uh, having."

Cole looked at me for a moment, as if trying to discern if I was serious and upon deciding I was, had to bite his lip to keep from laughing but a strange, guttural sound still escaped his throat.

I frowned at him and had given up and just began to turn away, when he broke out into a grin and held his hands up in surrender.

I waited for him to say something, anything at all, but he didn't.

That was fine with me. We were going to be pit up against one another anyway. Might as well start acting like it.

So we sat in an uncomfortable silence and I had been staring at the wall in front of me with such intensity that I nearly jumped when he nudged my arm.

He made a gesture to his throat and moved his lips but no words came out.

It took me a moment to understand but when I did, my eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh!" I said, before I could stop myself. "You're mute."

He nodded.

Great, so I'd been misinterpreting his silence as his intentions to regard me as an enemy.

I felt my face flush.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know -,"

He shrugged, like he was used to it.

I was taken aback by the calm demeanor he was able to uphold despite what was going on.

His brother didn't share the same nonchalance.

Before I could say anything else, he was motioning to the window behind me.

When I spun around, I could see why.

We were in the Capitol.

My curiosity won out and I got up and crossed to the window.

It nearly took my breath away.

I'd only ever seen the Capitol on television yet it was nothing compared to the grandeur of seeing it in person.

Towering buildings that glistened in the daylight and stretched into the sky. Streets dotted with shiny cars and people in bright, bizarre clothing.

Cole looked stunned too and for a few moments, all we could do was stare.

Then the train began to pull up at to a platform and I could see people cheering in excitement, shouting and pointing at us.

I tore my gaze away from their eager eyes, ducking away from the window.

Cole only blinked at them before stepping away.

Then they were gone as we pulled into the station.

The train gently slowed to a stop and Odessa came in, mumbling about us needing to move along.

I shuffled out after her but I could still hear screaming, enthusiastic crowd of people who could barely curb their excitement at the prospect of getting to watch me die.

Author's Note

IM SORRY THAT THIS IS SO OBNOXIOUSLY LONG I AM TRYING OK

and on another note, I super appreciate the feedback & was wondering what sort of update schedule I should follow. I've generally been uploading every wednesday but I feel that maybe I should be posting twice a week or maybe more? There's the bit about more chapters but shorter content as opposed to fewer chapters with more content but that isn't a huge concern right now because i've got a number of chapters done already. Anyway, if you have an update schedule suggestion, or anything to say at all really, id love to hear it. ok bye thank you i love you

p.s. a reminder that i did not follow a naming scheme. sorry don't hate me

p.p.s. if you comment i will propose


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